


Blood, Sex & Eggnog

by DarkObsessions



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Abuse, Dom/sub, F/M, Graphic Violence, Masturbation, Rough Oral Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 23:09:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9209501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkObsessions/pseuds/DarkObsessions
Summary: Joker and Harley crash a Christmas party, bloodshed ensues. Harley discovers eggnog and Joker reluctantly indulges in his penchant for her.





	

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own anything from the DC Universe. It is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this, nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.  
  
  


**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** This is not a story for the faint of heart. It depicts a volatile dom/sub relationship, graphic violence and rough sex. As this is a Joker/Harley fic, I assume that much is somewhat to be expected, but thought I should give the warning anyways just in case anyone doesn't want to read further.

Reviews and feedback are much appreciated. Hope you enjoy the read :)

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Christmas carols belted through the hall's loud speakers, joining the riotous sounds of carnage and gunfire. The screams of the dying echoed through the open space, the wet crunch of rendered flesh and bone blending eerily with cheery melodies of peace and love.

 

It was a gruesome ballad, a composition worthy of the finest orchestra.

 

Amidst the blood and chaos stood the Joker, his chest heaving with exertion and excitement. He lifted his custom pistol with a grin, casually popping off a few more rounds into another fleeing patron. He hadn't come here looking for a fight, he'd only intended to make this establishment's proprietor an offer. In the spirit of Christmas, he'd proposed what he believed to be a very generous overture.

 

Sadly, said proprietor had been less than forthcoming, hardly accommodating. And naturally this sort of insolence had required an immediate reprimand, a firm reminder of exactly who this city belonged to. He'd had the boys bar the doors from the outside before setting about creating this beautiful mess, a lesson to the fools so flippantly brazen.

 

Gazing out at the dazzling array of mayhem and confusion unfolding before him, he could admit that perhaps things had gotten just a tad out of hand. He just couldn't bring himself to give a damn. This was the sort of thing he lived for; chaos, power and destruction.

 

A blood curdling scream erupted from the opposite end of the room, breaking his train of thought. He he turned his attention towards the sound just as the scream turned to a garbled sputtering of blood and teeth. There, standing above the owner of those sickening sounds, stood his most prized possession. His very own creation, his most brilliant accomplishment.

 

_His Harley Quinn._

 

She stood with her legs spread evenly beneath her, a bat lifted high above her head. There was a madness in her face, a wild and gleeful glint to her eyes as she brought the bat down hard. The meatsack crumpled at her feet.

 

The holiday mix CD must have reached it's end, because as she brought the bat down for the third time the cheery Christmas tune came to a fading halt, the room suddenly much quieter.

 

He watched her throw herself into the next clobbering, only to prance away moments later to pick off a remaining few stragglers left cowering about the room. Eventually, the only sounds left were his breathing, Harley's and the meaty sound of her bat meeting flesh. Something resembling pride swelled in his chest, tightened the crotch of his pants.

 

_Goddamnit._

 

He grit his teeth. This was hardly a productive response. Surely he was above harboring such trite and pedestrian feelings toward the mad little minx. He had better things to do with his time, cities to burn and people to bludgeon.

 

But alas, no, he'd yet to rise above this yearning. As per usual, the irritating little imp served ever the distraction, one in which he repeatedly indulged. She stoked an insatiable need, a fire that he'd long thought dead. And it irritated him to no end.

 

Twirling the gore spattered bat in her hands, Harley blew back a strand of errant hair and gazed about the room. Finding one last quivering man, she sauntered on up towards him. He was a portly fellow, graying and lacking in personal hygiene, perhaps mid-forties. He sat plastered to the back of a dark green sofa, apparently frozen in fear. A cup of yellow liquid was still absently gripped in his trembling, sausage-like fingers. His eyes were wide as he watched her approach.

 

Harley wrinkled up her nose. “Whatcha got there, Porky?” She inquired curiously, gesturing toward the man's cup with her bat. Porky blanched, glancing confusedly between Harley and his cup. Joker meandered up behind Harley, mildly intrigued and stubbornly attempting to ignore the problem in his nether regions.

 

“Th-This?” Porky sputtered.

 

Harley nodded.

 

Porky stammered. “Eggnog... It's just eggnog.”

 

She gave Porky a dazzling smile. “I've never tried eggnog.” She chirped.

 

Porky swallowed hard, lifting his cup out towards her in a silent, trembling offering.

 

“Well, aren't you sweet?” Harley cooed, reaching out to take the cup from his hands. She tossed a look over her shoulder at the Joker. “Ain't he sweet, Pud?” She said cheerily before taking a dainty sip from the cup.

 

Joker arched a brow, giving her a bored expression. “Terribly...” He said blandly. He was quickly loosing interest in this game, he'd decided there were other things he'd rather doing.

 

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, Puddin', you've gotta try this!” She trilled excitedly, holding the cup out towards him.

 

Joker rolled his eyes, having no interest in eggnog whatsoever. Instead, he plopped down on the couch next to Porky, who looked about ready to piss himself. Without further hesitation Joker carelessly lifted his pistol, pointing it between Porky's big round eyes. A loud pop painted Porky's brains across the other end of the sofa. Joker sighed, lifting his foot idly to shove the body off to the floor.

 

Unfazed, Harley stepped closer. She leaned over him, holding the beverage out for him to take. A silly grin painted her mouth as she eyed him expectantly.

 

He tongued the inside of his mouth thoughtfully as he glared up at her. She looked both ridiculous and horribly enticing all at once. She was clad only in a pair of small, red shorts, black combat boots, a skin-tight white tee with Rudolf on the front, and a silly Santa's hat. The whole ensemble was speckled with grime and gore.

 

Now irritated and impatient, he slapped the disgusting yellow beverage from her outstretched hand. It sailed from her grasp and clattered to the floor, it's contents mingling with the various spilled fluids. “Forget the damned eggnog, Poo. Daddy's got more immediate problems.”

 

She shrugged, seemingly unbothered by his outburst. She didn't even bother to straighten, just remained bent at the waist above him. Tantalizingly close, yet still wearing a mask of feigned ignorance and innocence as she gave him a hesitant grin. “Alright. Lay it on me, then. Whadda ya need?”

 

She'd asked it candidly, but he hadn't missed the knowing look that had crossed her eyes as she'd glanced toward his crotch. She'd known exactly what was going on, she'd just been playing innocent, waiting to see how he'd choose to handle the situation. She knew that with him, a sexual encounter was far more likely to occur when he believed the encounter to be his own idea rather than hers. He suspected she'd used that knowledge to her own advantage.

 

He wasn't entirely sure whether he should be impressed or just plain irritated. Perhaps he could be both. At least she knew enough to let him be the one to call the shots.

 

Snatching the ridiculous Santa hat from atop her head, he tossed it over her shoulder to the floor. His hand rose to her shoulder and applied a downward pressure, a clear indication that he wanted her on her knees.

 

Completely unfazed, she freely complied. She dropped to her knees with a slightly jarring thud and just a tad too much enthusiasm for his liking. Again, he rolled his eyes.

 

She placed her hands on each of this thighs, running them from his groin to his knees and back again. A look of pure mischief and hilarity entered her eyes as she met his gaze. She bared her teeth in a wildly self satisfied and chuckling grin. She'd clearly thought of something she found amusing.

 

He narrowed his eyes, fully prepared to demand she cut the crap and start putting her lips to better use. Just as he opened his mouth to tell her as much, she giggled and interrupted his train of thought.

 

“That's alright, Puddin'. I'm just as fond of Daddy's nog.” She sat there between his legs, gripping his thighs and grinning madly. She was obviously eagerly anticipating his response to her punny word play, clearly thinking herself quite the comedian.

 

For a moment he just stared at her. Torn between scolding her for dealing punchlines, and bursting into laughter. The silly bint was almost as mental as he was. She knew full well what would happen if he chose to find her less than amusing, but she'd done it anyway. She'd risked life and limb just to drop a clever pun.

 

She continued to grin up at him.

 

_Mental. Just... Totally mental._

 

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Hehe...” Perhaps he could let this one slide, just this once. What the hell, it was just the two of them here anyway. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” He threw his head back against the back of the sofa, his shoulders quaking with laughter.

 

Her eyes lit up, her giggles following along with his as she reveled in the success of her wisecracking. His laughter seemed to be the green-light she'd been anticipating because as it begun her hands flew towards his fly, smoothly pulling him free with the practiced ease of a giddy professional.

 

His laughter curtailed briefly as her mouth closed around him, sputtering only momentarily before starting up again as he reached out to grip her hair and force her more deeply upon him. He felt the strained curving of her lips against him, a vibration in her throat that felt suspiciously like she might be trying to laugh, maybe speak.

 

Amusing, considering that breathing ought to be her more paramount concern.

 

Instead she seemed more interested in the task at hand, temporarily ignoring the requisite need for air in favor of an attempt to drive him madder than the hatter. It spurred his laughter further, egging him on as she enthusiastically worked him over, swallowing convulsively around him. Her free hand slipped down between her own thighs.

 

_She was mad, so beautifully mad._

 

Her face growing flushed with the exertion and a lack of oxygen, she rolled fervidly carnal eyes up to meet his. The look was anything but chaste, far from nice, a polar opposite to the innocence and child-like naivety she so often exuded. It set his blood ablaze, curbed his laughter, and distracted him from whatever he'd found so amusing only seconds before.

 

His grip in her hair tightened as he watched her. Their gazes remained locked in a moment of mutually twisted lust and warped affection. He groaned as she finally made an attempt to lift her head and slide him from her airway. He considered denying her the movement, simply forcing her back down and pistoning his hips into the warm and welcoming recess of her throat. But he decided against it, concluding that her admirable performance had earned her reward. He eased his pressure on the back of her head. His grip in her hair remained firm but he granted her the leeway she required to glide up off him just far enough to breathe.

 

He smirked at her sharp intake of breath, eyed her amusedly as she sucked in a few greedy puffs of air through her nose; no doubt so she wouldn't have to free him from the heat of her mouth.

 

_Clever girl._

 

It didn't take her long to resume her ministrations, avidly determined to push him to the brink. Her right hand worked diligently along the base of his shaft, her head bobbing in tandem with the vigorous motion of her hand. Her left hand had long since slipped down into the front of her own shorts, her fingers frantically circling that tight little bundle of nerves in a flurried quest to reach that crest before he did.

 

_Talented little multitasker, his Harley._

 

His grip in her hair began to tighten, his teeth grinding together with the tightening of his jaw. Her cheeks were hollowed, her breath coming through her nose in heaving pants that tickled his heated flesh. As his hips began to freely piston upwards, she lifted her gaze once more to meet his. With her eyes smiling and full of impish depravity, she began humming to the tune of Ring Around the Rosie.

 

His head snapped back, a maniacal bark of laughter bursting from his chest even as his body began to stiffen with impending release.

 

_Insane. Totally impromptu. Magnificent._

 

To hum a children's rhymes while giving head was mad enough, but to choose a rhyme so readily associated with disease, death and incineration? It was downright deranged, delightfully nutty, comically bat-shit.

 

She was extraordinary. Strikingly twisted. Goddamned breathtaking. And he'd made her, molded her, shaped her in his image. The thought had him riding that glorious threshold, so close to finding oblivion.

 

She swirled her tongue, pulled him deeper, and he abandoned what little restraint he'd been clinging to. He gripped her her hair in both hands, forcing her head lower. She didn't fight him, but eagerly opened her throat to the intrusion with an enraptured mewl. The hand in her shorts quickened, her hips beginning to shutter of their own accord.

 

His hips continued to piston against her as her body stiffened and she struggled to keep her muscles relaxed enough to accommodate him. Her eyes squeezed shut; a gurgling and strangled moan slipping from her throat as she carried herself over the edge to completion. Her throat contracted as she swallowed convulsively around him. Fire pooled low in his abdomen. He arched into her, going rigid with a baring of grit teeth and a feral growl.

 

The first jet hit the back of her throat, causing her to make a somewhat startled sound. As he yanked her head back, the second splashed across her mouth and cheek.

 

Much to his amusement, an eager and keening sound escaped her as she moved to recapture him when his grip loosened. She drank down what was left of him, licked him clean with the unabashed enthusiasm of a child with a new sucker.

 

He watched her with hooded eyes and a bemused expression, his earlier irritation long forgotten. She leaned back on her haunches and allowing him to slip free of her grasp with a wet plop. She grinned up at him, swiping the back of her hand across her mouth.

 

An arrogant smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth as his hand reached out to gently brush away some errant hair that had escaped her pigtails. She leaned into his touch, her lips curving up and pursing as he moved to stroke the back of his fingers lightly across her cheek.

 

“Such a pretty, pretty bird...” He purred quietly. “Daddy's naughty little monster....” She nodded in complacent agreement and he laughed, effectively sending shivers up her spine.

 

She remained seated between his thighs, watched him closely as he shut his eyes and rolled his neck from side to side in a slow stretching motion. When he opened his eyes, he found her gazing up at him expectantly, patiently waiting to see what came next.

 

He knew very well what she wanted. She was waiting for the green light, the go ahead to clamor up into his lap and snuggle in. He chortled softly. “Such a good girl.” He drawled, his tone landing somewhere between mockery and adoration.

 

She only smirked, pleased with herself and well aware he didn't offer his praise easily.

 

With another chuckle he beckoned her forward, gripping her biceps and pulling her up towards him. She climbed into his lap with a contented sigh, straddling his thighs and resting her head against his shoulder. His arms came up to loosely circle her waist, his head leaning back on the sofa.

 

What the hell, he could indulge just her a little. There was no one here to see it anyway.

 


End file.
